


Picture yourself in a boat

by letitmclennon



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous talking, Fluff, John's Birthday, M/M, row boat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 18:26:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16247312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letitmclennon/pseuds/letitmclennon
Summary: It's John's birthday, and John wants to go on a row boat with Paul.Will he be able to convince Paul?





	Picture yourself in a boat

"I can’t fucking do it."

"Don’t worry, John, we haven’t done it for a while. It's just normal."

"What the fuck are you saying? You can’t forget how to do certain _things_."

"Maybe you're just nervous and you need to relax a bit." Paul suggested trying to cheer him up.

John looked at him, uncertain, "Really?"

"Of course. We could go for a walk and try to relax a bit."

"But I don’t like leaving things unfinished. It’s like… I can’t feel satisfied, you know."

"Well, staying here and thinking about it over and over won’t help you though. On the contrary, we can find a distraction and try again later."

"If you say so…"

A few minutes later John and Paul were out in the street, walking aimlessly.

That afternoon they tried to write a new song. John had an idea and asked Paul to help him find inspiration. Everything went well up to a certain point. They had written the main lyrics with the chords. A great result, John told himself.

Too bad he couldn’t find a fucking miserable idea for the middle-eight and connect the two halves of the song together. But the more he thought about it, the worse it was.

Until the anxiety fucked up his brain and he decided to follow Paul's advice.

"After all, John, it happens to the great artists too. We aren’t excluded, as you see. So there's no need to despair."

John put his hands in his pockets, then kicked a pebble away.

"I'm not despairing. I just wanted to finish quickly to get my birthday present."

Paul frowned, looking puzzled, "And what would it be, if I may ask?"

" _You_. What a question."

"Oh really? And how should I have been your present?"

John pretended to think about it for a few moments. Actually he had too clear ideas.

"Let's see, I think you, naked on the bed, could be fine."

"And maybe with pieces of cake at strategic places to celebrate properly, right?"

"I’d be happy with just some whipped cream to lick. I don’t need the cake."

 Paul laughed when John looked at him, winking, and he would never admit it, but he also blushed a little.

 "Oh, sure. I imagine what a great sacrifice  would be for you."

"I think I would have the strength to do it."

"I have no doubt about it. Why didn’t you get the gift right away, if you were so convinced?"

"It will surprise you, my dear Macca, but I wanted to finish the song. I don’t like leaving things unfinished."

"So let's find inspiration again soon, right?"

Paul smiled at him sideways, cheekily.

John bit his lip. _Fucking Paul!_

What was holding him from pushing Paul into an alley and taking him he didn’t know for sure, except perhaps the fact that it was day and there were definitely too many people around.

However, he knew it wasn’t what he wanted for his birthday. That day he woke up thinking about that song and with a familiar itching in his hands, a clear sign that he was dying to write. He had all the lyrics in his head, like a kind of gift left behind by a restful sleep.

 All the lyrics, except for the bloody middle-eight, apparently.

After several minutes of walking, they arrived near Sefton park. It was weird for John that it happened right that day by chance.

Evidently John had a stupid smile, because Paul looked at him curiously.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing important."

"I think it was, if it made you smile like that." Paul replied, "Come on, tell me."

John snorted when Paul patted him on the arm, "Ok then, but you’re such a pain in the ass sometimes! This is where my parents met."

Paul's eyes widened, "Here in Sefton park?"

"Yes, it's funny we came here today, isn’t it?"

Paul shrugged, "Not too much, actually. Let's go inside then."

That said, he grabbed him by the sleeve, dragging him along. So they began to walk along the serpentine paths of the park. The trees had worn the autumn clothes and warm coloured leaves covered the ground, making a slight rustling at each step.

"So, how did they meet?"

"Oh, well, I think Julia was sitting in one of those benches." John began, pointing to a bench on the path near the lake, "He was wearing a bowler and came here to pick up, of course."

"Of course."

"So he saw her and start talking to her. Julia told him that his hat looked silly and he told her that she looked lovely."

"A real Lennon."

"Then he sat down next to her and she asked him to get rid of the hat. So he threw him into the lake."

Paul burst out laughing, "Now I understand a lot of things."

"What?"

John looked at him laughing heartily, but he didn’t understand why.

"The way you pick up. You definitely inherited it from your father." Paul stated.

"So? It’s a very sophisticated method."

"Never said the opposite."

Paul winked so cheekily that John wondered how he couldn’t be ashamed in a public place.

"It's a beautiful story, anyway." Paul continued, his expression turned serious again, "No matter how it ended."

John nodded. A slight pain in his heart tried to take possession of him thinking of all that happened later, but John didn’t allow it. It was his fucking birthday, and he was with Paul. Nothing could ruin that day.

"Yeah. I think they went for a  ride on a boat later."

"Fucking romantic."

"You can bet your tight little ass."

"John!" Paul scolded him, but John ignored him.

His attention had been captured by that bloke on the shore of the lake who hired the boats. He decided something crazy, _crazy_!, but fuck, he wouldn’t give up for anything in the world.

"Come on, let's go on a boat." John said and grabbed him by the sleeve.

But Paul stopped immediately, "What?"

"A boat ride." John repeated, but Paul's fear was still on his face.

"But…"

Of course, John had to expect such a reaction from Paul I-care-about-fucking-anything McCartney. It was just that John didn’t want to deal with that part of his best friend. Not today at least.

 "Don’t worry, I'm going to row. I won’t let your tiny little arms tire."

Paul pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, "My arms aren’t tiny."

They were.

"A bit."

Paul snorted, like a petulant child, "But anyway we can’t, John!"

"Why? You just said you find it romantic."

"Exactly." Paul snapped, but suddenly lowered his voice, "Everyone will see us, John, it's not..."

"It’s not what?" John urged him.

Paul sighed nervously, running a hand through his hair, "I mean, people might think wrong."

"And what’s wrong here? We're not doing anything _wrong_ , you know."

"Well of course no!" Paul hurried back, "But I don’t know if we should anyway."

"I say yes, and anyway people have better things to do than stare at us. I assure you."

"I'm not sure…"

Well, then Paul wanted John to put him in front of a crossroad. Great, John was very good at it. He had already done it, after all, and had won in that case too. He’d always win, when it came to Paul.

"Then you have two options. Either you come on the row boat with me, since it’s my birthday and each of my desires is an order... "

"Or what?" Paul asked, almost cursing himself for doing it.

"Or I'll kiss you in front of everyone."

Paul instinctively backed away, "You wouldn’t dare."

"I would. Oh fuck, if I would. I'm already quite horny since we left home, so I could do it very well if I wanted to. I might even have some difficulty to stop meself."

Paul rolled his eyes, resigned, "All right, all right. I get it. I guess I didn’t have choice then."

"Good lad."

"You're a jerk."

Paul sighed and followed John when he took a white row boat, with a couple of oars ready on.

The man who hired the boats gave them an annoyed look as he accepted John's coins. Paul swallowed loudly, evidently anxious, but decided to ignore his fears and trust John. After all, he was right, it was his birthday and he could ask all he wanted for today.

When they settled on the boat, Paul folded his arms, "To be clear, I won’t lift a finger to help you row. In any case."

John smiled, sitting in front of him, "To be clear, I won’t need your finger, neither your arm."

Paul looked at him still pouting, but John had that damned smile, the one that always told him how happy John was, happy as the happiest man in the world. And God, with that smile, Paul could never keep his pout for too long.

"We'll see."

As soon as John began to row, the boat moved away from the shore, heading for the center of the lake. Paul just lay down, keeping his now slightly frowned look fixed on John, watching how he was already sweating and breathing hard.

"Are you going to pout because of me all afternoon?"

"And are you going to admit defeat?" Paul replied, raising his nose very snobbily.

"What defeat?"

"You look a little tired, what with all that sweat and those gasps..."

John laughed, amused, "No... It’s just that I'm out of practice."

"Yeah, sure."

"However you could look around, instead of being offended. It's very nice, seen from here."

John nodded his head, and Paul decided to look around. He hated to agree with John, but in this case he really did. Autumn colors surrounded them, trees with their shades ranging from pale yellow to dark burgundy. All those shades were wonderful and so warm. It seemed to be in the middle of a fireplace, in the middle of the lively flame of a bonfire, but right there, at that point, on that boat next to John, Paul felt safe. And nothing and nobody could hurt him, nor could he burn himself.

For a small, crazy moment he was grateful to John for having forced him to follow him.

He bit his lip, realizing soon John was looking pleased.

"Yeah, okay. You’re right. It's very beautiful. Satisfied?"

"Endlessly. Thank you."

Paul returned to look at him, resting his hands behind him, and smiling sweetly but also cheekily.

"After all, we came here to relax and find inspiration again. In the middle of the lake there is definitely enough peace to think."

"You know what, Macca? I really think I had an idea how to finish the song."

"No way."

"See what can do the wonderful power to be with you?"

Paul startled and didn’t care if John had seen him blushing this time. There was only him after all.

"I thought it was the wonderful power of nature."

"Yeah but, it wouldn’t be the same without you." John admitted, "Shall we go back home, so I'll show you?"

"The middle-eight?"

John burst out laughing, "Sure, what else?"

"Why do I think it's just an excuse to have a go with me?" Paul asked, perplexed, but also hopefully.

"Would it be a problem?"

"Not at all." Paul said, winking, before getting up and waving him off to the side.

"I really have an idea, anyway." John confirmed, moving to let Paul sit next to him.

Paul smiled, grabbing one of John's oars.

"Better go then."

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, John! :3  
> I'm so happy I'm able to post something for his bday.   
> The idea for this little story was born when I watched a clip of the extra of Carpool karaoke, where Paul said he and John used to go to Sefton park for a ride on a row boat to clear their mind and find inspiration. I was like... oh, did he really say that? XD Yes, he did.   
> So I couldn't not write something about it.   
> And this is the result. I hope you like it! :D  
> See you on Saturday for I'll get you.   
> Bye.  
> Chiara


End file.
